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Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh Pal“In the darkness of your eclipses, I will wait in the shadows to watch You rise again.” Dreamer by day and writer by night, Sehar is an obsessively scripturient 16 year old studying at the Scottish high International school, Gurgaon, India. When not mentally compiling lists of rhyming words, she likes reading books and playing basketball. Her favourite period is undoubtedly literature, and she credits the subject for imbibing in her a love for reading and expressing her emotions through writing. An avid reader, books to her are oxygen and constellations and uncharted havens tRead More...
“In the darkness of your eclipses,
I will wait in the shadows to watch
You rise again.”
Dreamer by day and writer by night, Sehar is an obsessively scripturient 16 year old studying at the Scottish high International school, Gurgaon, India.
When not mentally compiling lists of rhyming words, she likes reading books and playing basketball. Her favourite period is undoubtedly literature, and she credits the subject for imbibing in her a love for reading and expressing her emotions through writing. An avid reader, books to her are oxygen and constellations and uncharted havens to wander through.
She started writing poetry at the age of 9, and hasn’t stopped since.
This is her first book, and the cover has been designed by her.
To read more of her work, visit her website iamsehar.com
Read Less...Achievements
I wrote my first poem in the third grade aged 6 perfectly rhymed and rather inane couplets chronicling the life of a feline with an affinity for lilies and Chile. To my nine-year old sagacity, poetry was just another language assignment; an evaluation of my vocabulary and imagination. Nevertheless, it was a form that caught my fancy, a genre that to me was symphony and zephyrs in the arid lands of lengthy, dry prose.
Years on, I have often pondered ov
I wrote my first poem in the third grade aged 6 perfectly rhymed and rather inane couplets chronicling the life of a feline with an affinity for lilies and Chile. To my nine-year old sagacity, poetry was just another language assignment; an evaluation of my vocabulary and imagination. Nevertheless, it was a form that caught my fancy, a genre that to me was symphony and zephyrs in the arid lands of lengthy, dry prose.
Years on, I have often pondered over the true definition of poetry. Its archaic hallmark of fixed rhyme schemes, structure and meter have been rendered obsolete with the advent of free verse. It flows over like a canister of bottled emotions, acting both as a salve and matchstick. It is raw and potent, both eloquent and aggravating, a catharsis and epiphany for many.
Poetry to me is the anchor that keeps me afloat when I am drowning in the deluge of my own thoughts, bestowing upon me the wings to unearth my own frontiers.
This Anthology is a treasured collection of the world through my eyes. As you traverse through this book, I hope you rediscover memories you may have forgotten, and moments buried beneath the sands of time. For what is poetry but symphonies in words and a voyage of emotions?
Sehar
4th January 2019
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